Joe Esposito and other dreams

After I went to bed, I didn't sleep well.

In the first dream I had, I was traveling south on some highway or freeway leading into town. It was night or early evening, and the sky was bluish-gray with drizzle and fog.

The familiar city skyline was ahead of me and to my left. But closer in, and all around me, were the towers and smokestacks of dozens of refineries and factories, belching smoke and steam into the foggy night. Many were illuminated, so the evening sky was divided between the hazy blue of the sky and and harsh yellow of vapor lamps, with the black silhouettes of smokestacks all around. A flash of lightning revealed a tornado approaching from the southwest which would eventually cross the freeway somewhere behind me.

And then I woke up.

I don't remember the second dream at all.

In the third dream, I was looking at some sort of catalog/sales piece for an exclusive golf course-based community somewhere around Guthrie. No such place exists, to my knowledge - the whole thing came out of my imagination. Photos showed residents at some social gathering. The men were wearing suits with Bermuda short-length pants, such as they actually wear in Bermuda, I guess.

There were lots of photos of Joe Esposito, the golf course's founding pro. According to one caption, he came to Guthrie from Chicago to establish the golf course years ago - like maybe in the late fifties - but sadly committed suicide when he was only 27. I saw that in my dream and thought to myself, 'Well, it's odd they would candidly mention that in a sales flyer.' One photo showed Joe amiably chatting with someone at what looked like another clubhouse party. The caption said it was one of the last photos taken of Joe, snapped the evening of his death.

And that was the third dream.

Does anyone ever actually have that comic strip dream where they're lying on the beach and beautiful women are fanning them with palm fronds?